"What then?"
"Well, now we must put it in practice. We are reducing all her other
views to practice, and we must not shirk this one.
"But what would you do? Oh, don't look so wicked, Ida! You look like
some evil little fairy, with your golden hair and dancing, mischievous
eyes. I know that you are going to propose something dreadful!"
"We must give a little supper to-night."
"We? A supper!"
"Why not? Young gentlemen give suppers. Why not young ladies?"
"But whom shall we invite?"
"Why, Harold and Charles of course."
"And the Admiral and Mrs. Hay Denver?"
"Oh, no. That would be very old-fashioned. We must keep up with the
times, Clara."
"But what can we give them for supper?"
"Oh, something with a nice, fast, rollicking, late-at-night-kind of
flavor to it. Let me see! Champagne, of course--and oysters. Oysters
will do. In the novels, all the naughty people take champagne and
oysters. Besides, they won't need any cooking. How is your pocket-money,
Clara?"
"I have three pounds."
"And I have one. Four pounds. I have no idea how much champagne costs.
Have you?"
"Not the slightest."
"How many oysters does a man eat?"
"I can't imagine."
"I'll write and ask Charles. No, I won't. I'll ask Jane. Ring for her,
Clara. She has been a cook, and is sure to know."
Jane, on being cross-questioned, refused to commit herself beyond
the statement that it depended upon the gentleman, and also upon the
oysters. The united experience of the kitchen, however, testified that
three dozen was a fair provision.
"Then we shall have eight dozen altogether," said Ida, jotting down all
her requirements upon a sheet of paper. "And two pints of champagne. And
some brown bread, and vinegar, and pepper. That's all, I think. It is
not so very difficult to give a supper after all, is it, Clara?"
"I don't like it, Ida. It seems to me to be so very indelicate."
"But it is needed to clinch the matter. No, no, there is no drawing back
now, Clara, or we shall ruin everything. Papa is sure to come back by
the 9:45. He will reach the door at 10. We must have everything ready
for him. Now, just sit down at once, and ask Harold to come at nine
o'clock, and I shall do the same to Charles."
The two invitations were dispatched, received and accepted. Harold
was already a confidant, and he understood that this was some further
development of the plot. As to Charles, he was so accustomed to feminine
eccentricity, in the person of his aunt, that the only thing which could
surprise him would be a rigid observance of etiquette. At nine o'clock
they entered the dining-room of Number 2, to find the master of the
house absent, a red-shaded lamp, a snowy cloth, a pleasant little feast,
and the two whom they would have chosen, as their companions. A merrier
party never met, and the house rang with their laughter and their
chatter.